Cry for Deliverance
by TheFirstMrsHummel
Summary: Dave Karofsky and Kurt Hummel deal with the consequesnces of the events in "Furt", separately and together. Warnings for angst and suicidal ideation, but no character death.
1. Chapter 1

_**This story is my way of working through the million conflicted feelings I have as a Kurtofsky shipper following the events of "Furt". My blood actually chilled when Dave slowly drew his finger down Kurt's chest, with that incredibly creepy smile. There was a very dark undercurrent of sexual violence and control to it. And the fact that he did it right out there at the lockers made me very worried about how close Dave is to snapping completely. Max Adler is a really talented actor - he hardly has any lines, yet he manages to flip back and forth between completely menacing and scary to absolutely pitiful seamlessly. I didn't think it could be possible for me to feel sorry for him in this episode, but that look he gave Kurt as he left Sue's office was so wretched, I couldn't help myself. **_

_**The title of this story is from the Evanescence song, Tourniquet. ("My wounds cry for the grave, my soul cries for deliverance").**_

_**[/ longest AN ever]**_

Chapter 1

The Hummel-Hudson household was sitting down for dinner. Kurt was chattering excitedly about his day at Dalton, hands waving and a huge smile on his face. Burt, in particular, was delighted to witness it. After weeks of almost never mentioning it when he was still at McKinley, school was now Kurt's favorite topic of discussion. So much better than a honeymoon in Hawaii, Burt thought. He looked at the other boy sitting at the table, picking at his meatloaf absently. When Kurt paused to take a breath, Burt said, "And how was your day, Finn? Anything exciting?"

Finn looked up with a curious, deer-in-the-headlights expression. "Ummm…not really." he said, smiling uncomfortably. The table went quiet, Kurt and Carole looking at Finn with twin expressions of concern.

"Is something wrong, honey?" asked Carole.

Finn squirmed in his seat. "I don't think we need to talk about it now." he said, eyes sliding towards his step-brother.

Kurt looked down at his plate. He felt terrible that Finn felt like he couldn't talk about McKineley, or glee club, or whatever was bothering him at his own stinking dinner table. "It's okay Finn," he said, "I can leave the table for a little bit if you need me to."

He looked up at Finn, who looked very surprised. "No, it's not a secret, or anything. It's just…" he trailed off, helpless against the expectant gazes of his new family. He sighed heavily. "I don't want to upset you, Kurt. It's about, uh, Karofsky." Finn immediately felt like shit when everyone's expressions immediately changed; Burt looked pissed, his mom looked even more worried, and Kurt had gone as white as a sheet.

Kurt tried to act nonchalant, unaware of how pale he was. He reached for his water glass. "Oh really? What about the giant goon?" he said, in a voice that was amazingly not the least bit shaky. His hand was pretty steady, too. He hated falling back into the habit of pretending like he wasn't scared when he was, but he hated the awkwardness even more. He was desperate to smooth things over with the people he had come to love so much.

"He quit the football team today." Finn said quietly. "And told the hockey coach he wasn't coming back when their season starts." He paused, as if deciding if it was a good idea to continue on. "He's been really weird since he came back. I mean, I was thinking maybe being expelled scared him enough to lay off us freaks and geeks for a while, but it's been over a month and he's still acting…well, not like himself."

"He's not picking on people anymore?" asked Kurt, brows knit in confusion. "That _is _weird. I'd think after he totally got away with what he did to me, he'd be worse than ever."

"I know." said Finn. "But nothing. And it's not just that. He doesn't eat lunch or hang out with Azimio or the other jocks anymore. He walks around with his head down most of the time, and doesn't say a word in class, let alone give the teachers a hard time. A few days ago, I accidentally bumped into his shoulder in the hallway, and it was like he didn't even notice." Finn shrugged.

"I guess maybe the expulsion really taught him a lesson." said Burt, a satisfied note creeping into his voice. "Hopefully, one that'll stick."

"I guess." responded Finn, sneaking a peek at Kurt. He looked confused and not a little disturbed. Finn decided it would be an excellent idea to stop there, and not to mention the other strange thing he'd observed about Karofsky. A handful of times, Finn had spied him at a dead stop in front of what used to be Kurt's locker, face blank of any discernable expression. And once, he saw Karofsky reach towards the locker, like he wanted to touch it with his fingers. It was kind of creepy, and Finn remembered it had caused the hair on his arms to stand up for some reason.

Finn cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, "Enough about that. It's just that we're going to have to find a new right wing, and just before playoffs, too. It's no big deal, just something Bieste's going to have to work around." He paused, glad to see that the color had mostly returned to Kurt's face, and Carole and Burt had more neutral expressions. He smiled. "Can I have some more mashed potatoes? They're awesome."

His mom complied, and everyone at the table was happy to move on to a completely different subject.

_**Just a warning, the next chapter is extremely angsty. I know it'll be hard for me to write, but I have to get it out of my head and onto the paper or it'll drive me mad. Reviews might make it a little easier, though. (hint, hint) ;-) **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Once again, a million thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and review the first chapter. Your words really help keep me going. In return for your kindness, I decided to wait and post this and Chapter 3 together, so as not to leave you with a cliffhanger. 'Cause that would just be mean. ;-) **_

Chapter 2

Kurt was down in the bedroom he shared with Finn, struggling with his trigonometry homework. He was very intelligent and well-read, but math had always been tough for him. He thought about taking a break, but he knew if he didn't want to be down here all night tearing his hair out, he had better stick with it. As he picked up his pencil with a sigh, his cell phone vibrated next to him. He smiled, thinking maybe a break was unavoidable, after all. Perhaps Blaine wanted to meet for coffee or something later.

Picking it up, he was surprised to see that the number wasn't anyone in his contacts, though the phone number looked local. Maybe a wrong number? He shrugged and thumbed the "Accept Call" button, raising the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he said. At first he heard nothing, and thought maybe the caller had hung up. But then he heard breathing, and what sounded like a gasp. "Hello?" he repeated, a little louder and enunciating the word a bit more strongly.

In response, he heard a clicking noise. Wait, not clicking…he listened more closely. It was more like someone was making the sound of a hard c, or a k. "K…k…". This was getting very strange, and Kurt wondered if someone was playing a prank on him. He began to feel uneasy, and started to pull the phone away from his ear to hang up, when he heard an unfamiliar voice say "Kurt?".

"Yes, this is Kurt." he replied.

A gasping sob came out of the phone at his words, and Kurt became officially creeped out. The voice, a male one, spoke again. "Sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Kurt, for everything…" Now that the person had strung a few words together, Kurt started thinking maybe he _had_ heard the voice before. Unsurprisingly, he had an excellent ear for voices.

"Who is this?" he said, trying not to let on any nervousness or fear with his tone.

"It's…it's Dave Karofsky _please_ don't hang up!" the voice said quickly.

Hanging up, of course, had been Kurt's first instinct when he heard his former tormentor's name. He resisted, but it was difficult. Still, his tongue was frozen, and he couldn't seem to make any words come out. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, along with more of those gasping, choking sobs from the phone.

"So sorry." Karofsky said again desperately. "Sorry for hurting you, sorry for scaring you. For chasing you away. Sorry for touching you, kissing you, _everything_."

With difficulty, Kurt found his voice. "Why are you calling me, Karofsky?" he said in a near whisper.

Karofsky laughed, but it was tinged with hysteria and full of tears. "To say I'm sorry! Haven't you been listening?" he said. Kurt heard a sniffle, like maybe the other boy was wiping his nose. There was a long pause, during which Kurt began to feel a terrible sense of foreboding. "And to say goodbye." Kaofsky said quietly.

Kurt felt his hands and feet go slightly numb. The last time he had felt dread like this was two months ago, when Karofsky ran his finger down Kurt's chest, malevolent smirk on his lips, and looked at him as if he could violate every corner of Kurt's body and soul without a single qualm. It was the realization that something irrevocably terrible was right around the corner. The sort of thing a person would have to carry with them for the rest of their lives. It was hard to speak, but he managed to stammer out, "Karofsky, wait. What are you talking about?"

At first there was only silence on the other end. No sobs, or gasps, or tears; just a long, ominous quiet. In a voice so calm, Kurt couldn't even believe he was talking to the same person, Karofsky said, "Goodbye, Kurt." Then the call was disconnected.

"No! Wait, Karofsky!" Kurt yelled into the phone, unable to believe the call had ended. He felt sweat break out on the back of his neck and on his forehead. There were no thoughts in his head about the bully who pushed him into lockers, violently stole his first kiss, and made him leave all his friends behind at school. All he could think was that there was a human being out there, who was going to do something that could never be taken back or changed. Not unless Kurt Hummel stopped it.

He ran up the stairs, screaming for Finn. Please, let him still be home, Kurt thought desperately. He skidded into the kitchen, nearly falling over. At the table, Finn was doing his own homework, iPod blaring so loudly Kurt could hear the tinny sound from across the room where he stood, panting. He ran over and ripped the earbuds out by the cord. "Shit!", yelled Finn, slapping his hands over his ears. "What the _fuck_, dude? That _hurt_!"

Kurt grabbed his hands, and Finn finally looked at him. He had opened his mouth to yell some more, but the absolute terror in his step-brother's eyes stopped him. "Kurt, what is it , man?" he said, tightening his hands on Kurt's. Finn wondered if maybe the house was on fire, or something. Whatever it was, Kurt was scared shitless.

"Do you know where Dave Karofsy lives?" Kurt asked urgently. "Have you ever been to his house, Finn?" Finn was totally confused, and Kurt felt his anxiety hitch up a notch at his bewildered expression. He yanked his hands away from Finn, reached up to grab the larger boy's shoulders, and shook him. "Finn! Answer me! Do you know where his house is?" he shouted.

Still baffled, Finn answered. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I dropped him off after practice a couple of times last year. And there was that party once…"

Kurt let go of his shoulders. "Where are your keys? You have to take me there Finn. Right now!" He saw them sitting on the counter, scooped them up, and threw them at Finn, who was still staring and not moving. "FINN!" Kurt cried, hearing his voice break with emotion.

Finn started moving towards the door, finally. "Okay, yeah, I can take you. But why would you want to go _there_, Kurt? What's going on?" he said, as Kurt blew past him and out the door.

"I'll tell you on the way!" Kurt shouted over his shoulder. He jumped into the passenger seat as soon as he saw the lights flash and heard the locks disengage on Finn's car. Trembling, he fastened his seatbelt. He still didn't believe in God, but he begged the universe to please, please not let him get to Karofsky's house too late.


	3. Chapter 3

_**This chapter was heartbreaking to write. I'm not gonna lie, I cried a little. But I can only go where my muse takes me, and RM and Co. have set me on a dark and angsty path. No character death (I just can't go there. And I sure as hell hope Glee can't either). But some graphic stuff about suicide looms ahead, so read at your own discretion.**_

Chapter 3

Finn's car pulled up at the Karofsky house, tires squealing as Finn hit the brakes. Before he could even shift into park, Kurt threw off his seatbelt and jumped out the door, not even stopping to close it. He ran up the steps of the grey house to the door and started pounding on it. "Kurofsky! Open the door! Open it!" he yelled. Finn, only slightly calmer, took a minute to look around. The neighborhood was quiet, there was no car in the driveway, and the house looked pretty dark.

He climbed up the steps to where Kurt was still slamming his fists on the door. "I don't know, dude. Maybe we should just call the cops?" he said nervously.

Kurt looked at him, astonished. "Are you fucking crazy?" he cried. "There's no time!" He started slamming his slim shoulder into the door. "Help me break it in, Finn!" He stopped for a moment and looked at him, tears in his panicked eyes.

Finn put his own apprehension aside. Kurt could be melodramatic, but this was all-out fear like he'd never seen before, not even during the very worst days of his bullying. He nodded at Kurt, and started clobbering away at the door like it was one of the blocking dummies at football practice. Kurt joined in, and within less than 5 minutes, the hinges groaned and the door finally swung inward. Kurt ran in, but came to a dead stop in the foyer.

The house was dark and silent, but both boys spied a faint glow at the top of the stairs. Suddenly, it was as if neither of them was able to make a sound. The quiet was oppressive, and scary as shit. Kurt started moving up the stairs as gently as possible, hugging the wall the whole way. Finn followed his lead until they got to the second floor, where they saw light coming out a door that was ever so slightly ajar. Kurt crept up to it and peeked inside. What he saw almost literally turned his blood into ice.

Dave Karofsky was kneeling on the floor. And he held a gun in his hands.

Kurt wanted to cry out, to burst into the room and start screaming. But he was so afraid that Karofsky might shoot himself, or even him or Finn in his surprise. So he bit the scream back and slowly retreated from the door. He sidled up next to Finn and whispered in his ear. "You need to go outside, and you need to call 911 right now." Finn looked at him, questioningly. "He has a gun. We need help, Finn. Please go call them."

Finn started to creep back down the hallway, only to look back and realize Kurt wasn't following him. He went back. "What the fuck are you doing? Come with me!" he whispered harshly. To Finn's horror, Kurt moved away from him, towards the door.

"Just go. I need to try and buy some time."

Finn grabbed his arm. "The fuck you will. He has a gun, Kurt. This is way over our heads, we have to get somewhere safe."

Kurt looked at Finn, and he saw the bravery and determination in Kurt's face. He remembered their parent's wedding reception; the moment when he had said that Kurt had taught him, more than anyone else, how to be a man. Those words had never seemed as true as they did now, with Kurt willing to risk his very life for some piece of shit who had made his life miserable.

Kurt put his hand over Finn's grasping one. "Please, just call them. It'll be okay, I promise. Just do it fast, okay?" he said softly. And with that, he removed Finn's hand and started moving towards the doorway. Finn, finally giving up, went and quickly down the hallway and stairs as he could without making too much noise. He exited the front door and dialed 911 as quickly as he could.

Two stories above, Kurt, as gently as possible, pushed open the door to Dave Karosfsky's bedroom. He winced at the creaking noise it made in the silence. Dave looked up blindly, and pointed the gun at Kurt. "Who is it?", he nearly shrieked. Kurt fought the urge to run, and won. Barely.

"It's me."

"Kurt? Is that you?" Karofsky said, pitifully.

"Uh huh. You called me, right?" he said, moving a little closer despite the gun trained on him. He didn't know the first thing about guns, but this one was big, black, and looked deadly as shit. Being Kurt, he nearly rolled his eyes at the thought of what the jocks would think of the "cowardly little faggot" moving towards what he could only assume was a loaded firearm. "You scared me." He told Karofsky. "And you're still scaring me, to be perfectly honest. How about you put that thing down, and we can talk about this."

Karofsky blinked, and pulled the gun back. But instead of discarding it, as Kurt had hoped, he hugged it to his chest. Shit.

"You don't want to talk to me. You hate me." Karofsky declared "Not that I blame you. I made it happen. All of it. And now it's time to pay." He stroked the gun with one hand, and Kurt felt chills go down his spine.

He moved a little closer, and kneeled on the floor as close to Karofsky as he dared. "I think you've paid a lot already. The fact that you're sitting on your bedroom floor holding a fucking gun is proof of that. I know you've been terrible to me, but nothing is worth this. Nothing, Dave."

Karofsky looked up suddenly at the sound of his first name coming from Kurt's lips. His face crumpled. "You wouldn't say that, not if you knew…" he said brokenly.

"Knew what?" Kurt didn't really want to know, but he had to keep Dave talking. Surely the police couldn't be far from arriving.

"What I would have done to you, if I had the chance. I made you kiss me, sure. I touched you in the hall that day. But if I had the chance, I'd have done a lot more. A lot worse." He shuddered, still cradling the gun. He looked at Kurt nakedly, as if daring him to look into the darkest recesses of his soul. "I would have fucked you, Kurt. Held you down, even if you hadn't wanted it, and made you take me." Kurt tried not to blanch, but the image was so appalling, he couldn't help it.

Dave moved the gun from his chest and pointed it towards his own face. "Sure you still want to save me, Hummel?" he said, a tear sliding down his cheek. "I'd have raped you in a second, if I thought I could get away with it. You got out at the right time. I was really working myself up to believing that I _could_ get away with it.." Dave looked like he was trying for a leer, but it dissolved into tears quickly.

It was hard to concentrate, what with the gun, and the rape threats, and everything else. Kurt wasn't sure _what_ was going to happen, but he was pretty sure some serious therapy was in his future. That is, if Dave didn't turn the gun on him and make this night it into some tragic gay murder-suicide scenario that Fox News would likely have a field day with. Turning it into Kurt's fault, of course. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw hope. Red and blue flashing lights were finally, _finally_, flashing through the window. Just a little bit longer, he thought.

"I'm so fucked up, Kurt." Dave said.

"You sure are. But it's okay, Dave." he said. He was drawing on all of acting skills at this point. There was _nothing_ okay about what had happened in this room. Frankly, Kurt hoped that no one but himself and his future shrink would ever need to know about what had transpired here.

Dave looked at him, tears running down his cheeks and standing in his eyes. "No Kurt. It's not. But thanks for saying so." And with those words, he put the barrel of the gun in his mouth.

Kurt reacted instantly. "NO!" he screamed, and lunged towards the larger boy. His hand flew out and slapped the gun out of Dave's hand. It discharged with an enormous bang, and Kurt wasn't entirely sure he had saved Dave. Or himself, for that matter.

But he heard Dave sobbing, and that must have meant that they were both still alive. He lay there on the floor, hearing the blissful sound of footsteps pound up the stairway. The door slammed open, and he heard several voices, including Finn's. Accepting that the cavalry had actually arrived, Kurt allowed himself to pass out into peaceful oblivion.


	4. Chapter 4

_**It's Thanksgiving Day, and I'd like to give thanks for every single person who has read, reviewed, favorited, added alerts and/or sent PMs about my stories. When I banged out "Earning It", I never imagined that I'd receive so much support and appreciation for my writing, and it's made my days much brighter lately. **_

_**My turkey's in the oven, and I don't have to put the potatoes on for a few hours, so I thought I'd whip up a little more angst while I have the time. I'm one sick puppy, I guess. ;-) Graphic warning still applies for this chapter.**_

Chapter 4

Kurt watched in horror as Dave put the gun in his mouth. He wanted to slap it away, but he was paralyzed with fear. Dave pulled the trigger, and the back of his head exploded in a mass of blood and brain tissue. It splattered on the wall behind him, like some gruesome ___Rorschach_ test. Kurt could feel the scream building up in his throat. Too late, too late, too-

He awoke with a gasp, hand pressed to his trembling mouth. He scrabbled for the lamp on the bedside table, relieved when light flooded the dark room and chased the shadows away. He propped himself up against the headboard and tried to get his breathing back to normal. As he calmed slightly, he realized his silky pajamas were stuck to his perspiration-drenched body. He hated that about the nightmares most of all, and could never get back to sleep unless he took a shower first.

At least they were less frequent now. And even though they were just as graphic and terrible as ever, he had eventually trained himself not to scream upon waking. Well, except that one time a couple of weeks ago, when he dreamed that Dave turned the gun on him, flipped him over, and did what he had confessed he'd wanted to do before Kurt's escape to Dalton. That one had him screaming so loud, he'd woken the entire house up. Finn had gotten to him first, and when he grabbed Kurt by the shoulders, Kurt lashed out blindly and punched him. It was only when he heard his dad's voice as he and Carole ran into the room, that he realized it was only a nightmare. He had burst into tears when he opened his eyes and saw Finn's bleeding lip. Finn had just thrown his arms around his step-brother, put his cheek on top of Kurt's sweaty head, and murmured, "It's okay, man. Don't worry about it. You're fine." It was the only time he'd had that particular dream, and he fervently hoped it would be the last.

Most of the time, the nightmares were like the one he'd just had. For some reason (and there were several that his mind had treated him to), he wasn't able to stop Dave from blowing his brains out. But there were other terrifying scenarios, like Dave suddenly putting the gun against Kurt's forehead and pulling the trigger. And a couple of times, he dreamed Finn came back into the house to check on them, and a startled Dave shot him in the chest.

Kurt sighed. He had always had a good imagination, and from the time he was a small child, his dreams had been vivid and colorful. He knew when the police drove him and Finn away from the Karofsky house two months ago that he'd be having nightmares, but even he wasn't prepared for the frequency and intensity. Poor Finn, who had been sharing his room at the time, was woken up at least two or three times a night by Kurt's thrashing and moaning. And if his brother did manage to sleep through most of it, he was woken up by Kurt's pitiful screams as he tore himself from the grips of the dream. After a few nights of this, plus other not-so-fun new habits like jumping a mile at any loud or sudden noise, Burt insisted that Kurt start seeing a psychologist. He'd gotten a recommendation from Ms. Pilsbury, and he told Kurt that he had an appointment at 3pm that day, whether he liked it or not. Kurt didn't argue.

Dr. Vetter was a warm, middle-aged woman who specialized in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. She explained to Kurt that what was happening was only to be expected, and that he shouldn't feel weak or babyish. She told him that it would take time, but with regular therapy she knew he could gain control over his symptoms. She also prescribed him a light dose of Xanax, just to get his anxiety levels manageable in the short term. Basically, she'd been a tremendous help from day one, and continued to be.

Shortly after the night Dave Karofsky nearly killed himself, Burt and Carole closed on a new house and the family moved. Finn could now sleep in his own room and not have to listen to Kurt struggle through his nightmares every night. And Kurt no longer had to even look at the bedroom where he'd received the phone call that started this whole mess. 4 weeks after slapping the gun out of Dave's hand, Kurt slept through until morning without a single nightmare, or at least, not one he could remember. Dr. Vetter considered it excellent progress, and it seemed she was right. The dreams continued to decrease in frequency, to the point where he was only having them once a week or so. They were just as scary, but Dr. Vetter assured Kurt that their intensity would fade, just as the frequency had. She was honest with him, though, and told him that it was possible they might never go away completely, particularly during times of great stress. But she had helped people who had been through trauma like Kurt's for years - rape victims, war veterans, battered wives, parents of murdered children, etc. - and she promised him that they all were managing to live a normal life, despite the occasional flashback or setback.

Kurt didn't like to think about where Dave was, or what he might be going though very often. But after a nightmare, particularly the ones where Dave died, he couldn't help it. He bet Dave had a lot of nightmares of his own, and even though he still hated him, he hoped that Dave was getting the same kind of help he was lucky enough to have. Actually, he didn't even really hate him that much anymore, and that was also due to Dr. Vetter's assistance. She was helping Kurt navigate the myriad of painful and complicated feelings Kurt harbored for Dave; pity, fear, regret, shame, and some that he wasn't sure even had a name. But she was helping him, and no matter what Dave had done, or wanted to do to Kurt, he hoped someone was helping him too.

He looked at the clock. It was 2:10am, so he figured if he showered quickly he could still get another 4 hours or so of sleep before he had to get up for school. The Warblers were really ramping up rehearsals in anticipation of kicking some serious ass at Regionals, and he wanted to be as well rested as he could. Grabbing his bathrobe, he left the last wisps of the memory of his nightmare behind, and made his way quietly down the hall to the bathroom.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note**_

_**This really isn't another chapter (though I'm working on Chapter 5 currently, promise!), but more an extended author's note. You can skip it if you want to - it won't keep you from following the story or anything.**_

_**Number one thing I want to say is this. Oh. My. Effing. God. Nearly 100 requests for story alerts. I'm so overwhelmed that you all are signing on for this crazy-ass journey with me. In fact, it's because of the response that I wanted to take a breather and explain a few things, based on some reviews and PM's I've gotten.**_

_**I'll be honest with you guys. Unlike my other stories, I don't know how this one is going to end. I started it as my own kind of therapy, to work out my issues with being a Kurtofsky shipper, even when Dave was exhibiting some really scary and abusive behavior on the show. I'd have written it even if I never had any intention of posting it here; I can't really afford my own Dr. Vetter, and I don't really want to see the look on a shrink's face if I start babbling on about my angst and obsession over fictional characters. ;-) However, I never write a chapter without knowing what the next one will entail, at least generally speaking. I hope that this will keep me from writing myself into a corner. I'm so new to this writing thing though, I might screw it up. But I will try my very best not to.**_

_**I can't promise that this one will end up with Dave and Kurt together, romantically speaking. I also can't promise that it won't. But what I can promise is to remain true to the characters, and treat them with love, respect and dignity. Chris Colfer and Max Adler have made Kurt and Dave so real for me, and the least I can do to thank them for their amazing work is to honor the characters they've created. I love Glee with all my heart, but I do have a beef with the show when the characterizations sometimes veer wildly from week to week. Fanfiction for me is a way to control what I can't ever really hope to control (i.e., what the REAL writers for Glee do), and in my little corner of the universe, I will strive to keep everyone as IC and consistent as I can. To quote Chris Colfer, from the Glee/Emmy 2010 sketch: "Oh, it's ON, bitches." :-D**_

_**I am a huge believer in therapy and mental health services, and that will probably come up more than once as I continue on with this story. I received counseling during some extremely painful points in my life, majored in Psychology in college a zillion years ago, and spent an entire summer interning full time at a domestic violence shelter. So I take these themes very, very seriously. I don't see how Kurt or Dave could possibly get past their issues and experiences without professional help, so dammit, I'm going to give it to them.**_

_**I think this is probably enough navel-gazing and TMI for everyone, so I'll stop there. But thank you all again for your interest and support; it means the world to me. For those of you who are still aboard, I'll try to do my best not to let you down.**_

_**xoxoxoxoxo**_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kurt grabbed his Language Arts textbook and closed his locker with a bang. He saw someone loom up in his peripheral vision, and was pleased to note that he felt not even the least twinge of anxiety. He turned and smiled to see Finn standing behind him.

"Hey, bro." said Finn. He handed Kurt a brightly colored, insulated sack. "You forgot your lunch this morning. Mom asked me to bring it to you."

"Thanks." said Kurt. "I gotta get to class. See you in glee," he paused, then leaned towards Finn and artificially deepened his high voice. "Bro." Finn snickered and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. The two of them were still amazed at how easily they felt brotherly affection for each other. They had both been only children for so long, plus there was Kurt's embarrassing Freshman year crush and Finn's initial hesitation about their parents getting married. But all of that seemed so long ago, especially considering the critical events of the past year. Kurt felt like he'd aged at least a decade since last November, instead of just 10 short months.

He walked briskly down the hall, pausing just slightly to wave at Mercedes and mouth "See you at glee" when he spotted her at her locker. Kurt was starting his junior year of high school at McKinley High instead of Dalton Academy. Burt and Carole's honeymoon money had only paid for a few months of tuition, and the last two months of the school year, Kurt had overheard them discussing how to shift some funds around to get Kurt through to June. After school had let out for the summer, Burt and Carole sat their sons down to discuss how to go about making another year's tuition happen. Kurt listened to them talk about a second mortgage on the house, Carole getting second job, and his dad selling his partnership in the garage. Somewhat numb, he listened in disbelief to his parents and Finn talking in perfectly normal voices about destroying their family's finances so he could continue at Dalton. Kurt had waited for a pause in the conversation, then informed them that he intended to enroll back at McKinley in the fall. His words had caused a bit of an uproar, but no matter how much Burt and Finn yelled, and Carole cried, Kurt would not be swayed. Burt finally looked into Kurt's eyes, which seemed these days to look like they belonged in the face of a much older person. There had always been parts of his son that couldn't relate to, but lately he thought there were now some that were completely unfathomable. They all had to accept that his beautiful, sensitive boy had been changed forever on that cold November night. "Okay, Kurt, if it's what you really want." he said. "Just let us know if you change your mind." He hugged his son tightly, and Kurt felt tears come to his eyes as the numbness faded and was replaced with overwhelming love for his dad. For all of them.

Kurt worked with Dr. Vetter over the summer on some coping strategies for returning to his old school. They both knew that McKinley was positively brimming with potential triggers, and too many flashbacks or panic attacks in a short period of time could set Kurt's progress back by months. His nightmares had decreased to maybe once a month, and Kurt was pleasantly astonished to realize that when they did occur, he often realized he was dreaming during them. He hadn't touched his Xanax in a long time, and he found himself wanting to hang out with his friends a lot more, instead of isolating himself in his house. Dr. Vetter was convinced Kurt could handle the switch, but he needed tools in order to do so. They worked with the school and Ms. Pilsbury, and Kurt started going to McKinley a couple of times a week. He would walk the empty halls with Finn, or his dad, or any one of a seemingly endless number of people who wanted Kurt's return to be as successful as possible. He visited the places with good memories (the glee club room and the auditorium) and not so good ones (the gym and lunchroom). The hardest one was the boy's locker room, where Dave Karofsky had forced Kurt to kiss him. He needed Dr. Vetter to get through that one, holding his hand and constantly checking in on his anxiety level. With her help, Kurt was able to go from a 9 down to 0 in about 40 minutes. They also decided that Kurt would be allowed, at least initially, to enter the school before the doors officially opened to students. That way, he could get his things from his locker and mentally prepare for the day in relative quiet for 10 minutes or so, before the halls filled with noisy chatter. It had only been 3 weeks, but all of their planning and preparations seemed to be having the desired results. Kurt hadn't had a single panic attack or flashback at school, and only one nightmare in all that time.

He was working on an in-class essay when he saw Ms. Pilsbury enter his Language Arts class. She walked over to whisper to his teacher, then approached Kurt. Her big doe eyes were soft and concerned, and Kurt felt his heart begin to knock against his ribcage slightly. "Kurt, could you come with me to the principal's office, please?" she said quietly. He gathered his things and followed her out into the hall, already beginning his deep breathing exercises. He entered the office, and saw that Figgins, Mr. Schue, Coach Sylvester, his parents and Finn were there. All the adults in the room looked very serious, but Finn looked confused. Apparently, he didn't know any more about what was going on than Kurt did. He slid onto the couch next to Finn. Trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, he asked, "What's going on? Am I in some sort of trouble?"

Ms. Pilsbury answered. 'No, Kurt, not at all. We just have to tell you something that might be upsetting. But before we do, just know that the reason we're all in this room is because we're going to do everything we can to support you. You'll never be unsafe at this school again, Kurt. We promise." She paused and took a deep breath. "Dave Karofsky is coming back to school tomorrow."

Kurt felt a high whining sound in his ears, and felt as if every drop of blood in his body had drained out of him. Next to him, he saw Finn shoot to his feet and start yelling, but it sounded like it was coming from very far away. There were more voices, but one suddenly cut through the fog with its no-nonsense tone. Sue Sylvester put her had on the back of Kurt's head and started pushing on it. "Put your head between your knees, Porcelain, and breathe." she said. "Don't you faint, on me, kid." Kurt decided that this was an excellent idea, and complied. The room grew quiet, the only sound his deep breaths that slowed from harsh and gasping to almost normal as he silently counted backwards from 30. As he lifted his head up, he felt Coach Sylvester give him an awkward pat on the back.

He blew out one last breath, color slowly returning to his cheeks. He reached for Finn's hand, who took it and squeezed Kurt's without hesitation. His dad and Carole walked over to the couch to stand next to their sons. They also held hands, and Burt took Kurt's free one so the entire Hummel-Hudson family was connected. Feeling much stronger, Kurt looked at Ms. Pilsbury, who was nearly as pale as Kurt had been. "Okay." he said. "I'm okay now. Sorry if I scared you. You can go on."

She cleared her throat. "Dave is coming back to school tomorrow." she repeated. "Are any of you aware of what's been going on with him since…" she trailed off.

"No." said Burt. "Frankly, we could have cared less. We were a little busy worrying about Kurt, here. You know, the one who saved that moron's life, and almost got killed in the process?" His dad's voice was starting to rise, so Kurt tugged on his hand to get his attention. He didn't say anything, but begged his dad with his eyes to knock it off, so they could just get this over with. Burt squeezed his son's hand, nodding.

He turned back to Ms. Pilsbury, who took a breath and continued. "After his suicide attempt, Dave was admitted to the psychiatric ward for a mandatory 72 hour hold. The doctors thought he was still a danger to himself and possibly others after the temporary hold was over, so his parents agreed to have him admitted to the inpatient ward for a longer stay." She caught Kurt's eye and held it. "He was at St. Rita's for 60 days. Legally, I can't share any details of his care. But my understanding is that he received significant daily talk and behavior modification therapy, along with pharmaceutical assistance. He was released in late January, but we've been assured that he's continued with all of it on an outpatient basis since then."

She shifted her gaze to Burt. "I've personally spoken to his psychiatrist and his social worker. They're absolutely sure he's ready to come back and successfully enter the general student population again. And based on what they've shared with me, I agree."

She stopped talking, and Kurt felt every single eye in the room on him. He didn't know what to say, or if he should even try to say something. That was a whole lot of information, and it was going to take him some time to process, whether they liked it or not. When it became obvious he wasn't going to speak, Figgns took over for Ms. Pilsbury. "We've worked his schedule to keep the two of you as separate as possible. You won't have any classes together, or the same lunch period. His locker is on a different floor. As much as we can while still providing him with a decent education, we've put him in classes that should have you of opposite ends of the building. You already come in early, and we're going to allow him to leave 15 minutes early, to minimize the chances of you running into each other in the parking lot."

Kurt's dad was surprised, and impressed. "Thank you." he said. "I appreciate everything you're doing to make Kurt feel more comfortable."

Figgins responded. "You're welcome, but we're not just doing this for Kurt." he paused. "Dave has requested that he not have to see your son at all, unless it's unavoidable."

For absolutely no reason he could understand, Kurt felt like he'd been slapped. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt desperate to leave the office. "Are we done, then?" he asked. Figgins nodded, and he got up as fast as he could. He stopped in the hallway and waited for his family to catch up. He needed to ask his dad to call Dr. Vetter's office and see if she could squeeze him in this afternoon.

_**Technically, Emma wouldn't have been able to say even the little bit she did about Dave's mental health. But I had to work it in there somewhere to set up the next chapter, so we'll have to do the suspension of disbelief dance together on that one. ;-) After writing this chapter, I feel like I've got some inspiration to take the story into less depressing territory. There'll still be plenty of angst, but unless my muse takes an unexpected turn, I don't think it'll get as dark as it was in the first few chapters. **_

_**Remember, reviews are love. And they taste like Skittles! :-) **_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I'll admit I write from Kurt's perspective much more than Dave's, because I identify with him a lot more, and just have a better idea of who he is. I hear Kurt's voice in my head; Dave's, not quite so much. I'll be honest, up until a couple of weeks ago, Dave Kurofsky barely registered on my radar at all. But he'll show up in the next chapter, I promise, and we'll get some insight into how he's been personally dealing with this crappy situation I've put him and Kurt in.**_

_**On a completely unrelated note, I put "Glee Cast" into Pandora while writing this chapter. The results were actually quite inspiring - I highly recommend it. XD**_

Chapter 7

"Kurt?" Dr. Vetter will see you now." said Daisy, who was working the reception desk at Creative Counseling Solutions that day. After nearly a year, Kurt had gotten to know all of the receptionists who rotated the front desk. They were all nice, of course, but Kurt always liked chatting with Daisy while he waited the best. She was in her early 20's, the closest to his own age, and Kurt had learned that she was pursuing a degree in Social Work at UNO Lima. She hoped to one day work here as more than a receptionist, and Dr. Vetter was a mentor of sorts to her. She also confessed to him a love for music, even though she personally couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. She always asked Kurt about what he was working on for glee.

"Thanks, Daisy." said Kurt. He walked down the hall to Dr. Vetter's office and sat in his favorite chair, setting his leather bag at his feet. The therapist smiled warmly at Kurt.

"Hi, Kurt." she said. "How was school today?"

"Pretty good. I got an A on my Economics test, and we're doing 'songs that represent our hopes for the future' in glee this week."

"And have you picked a song yet?"

"Sure have. _Seasons of Love_, from Rent."

"Why that particular one?" she asked.

"Because I've pictured myself singing that song on Broadway ever since I can remember. Even though it's more of an ensemble piece." He shook his head slightly, grinning. "I know, how unlike me, right?"

"You've often expressed that you like the spotlight. But maybe you also like being part of something bigger than just you?"

Kurt shrugged. "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts? That kind of thing?" Dr. Vetter just smiled at him. He rolled his eyes. After all these months of therapy, he knew by now than any answers in this office would be expected to come from him. "Yeah, I guess so. Plus, it's a beautiful song, and I sing it amazingly." he said, not even trying for modesty.

"I'll bet. You should email me an mp3, I'd love to hear it." Kurt knew from experience that her interest was genuine, and he promised to do so. Dr. Vetter subtly shifted gears. "Anything else worth mentioning?" she asked.

Kurt looked at the floor, smile sliding from his face. He was pretty sure he knew what she was getting at. "I didn't see him at all this week either, if that's what you're asking." he said. Expectedly, there was no response. He sighed. "It's been 3 weeks. Apparently the administration at McKinley has gotten its shit together for the first time _ever_, because their plan to keep us from spotting each other is working great." He looked up to see the neutral yet encouraging expression he'd come to expect from his therapist.

"It sounds like you're maybe a little disappointed by that?" she asked.

Kurt put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. "No." he said in an annoyed tone. He looked up. "I don't know, maybe. It's stupid, I should be glad he's staying the hell away from me."

"But you're not?"

Kurt jumped up from the couch, becoming agitated. He always did when they discussed this subject. He put his hands in his hair and pulled slightly, releasing some of his frustration. "I don't know! I just…where the fuck does he get off, telling Figgins he doesn't want to see me? _Hello_, I'm the victim, here! Why does _he_ get to decide if I see his ugly fucking jock face again?" He glared at Dr. Vetter.

"So it's because he's still got a measure of control over you?"

"Yes!" Kurt said heatedly. And because I just, I just want…" he closed his eyes, willing the tears not to come. "I want some…fucking…_closure_, dammit!" He threw up his arms. "He goes off to the goddamn funny farm, _disappears_, and I'm left here dealing with all this…bullshit!" he spat.

"You think maybe he's dismissed what happened between the two of you? Put it behind him?" She noted the look of anguish that came over Kurt's face at her words. Her genuine concern for him warred with her training. Her job was to push him towards insight and growth, and she knew in the long run it was what was best for her patient. But sometimes, she hated having to cause this incredible young man, who had already suffered so much, additional pain. She schooled her features into a neutral expression.

"He better have fucking not!" Kurt yelled, eyes wide. "He's the only one who knows…who knows…" he lost his battle with his tears, letting them come.

"Who knows what?"

Her question seemed to deflate Kurt's ire. He shuffled over to the chair and nearly collapsed into it. He looked back at her, tearfully. "Who knows what happened. In that room."

"You told me. I know what happened." she pointed out.

"But you weren't there. You can't really know. The things he said to me, how he said them, and how scared I was. He told me he wanted to fucking hold me down and _rape_ me, and I _still_ didn't want him to die. Why didn't I just let him do it?"

Sharon Vetter didn't respond, even though it broke her heart not to. She let the silence play out, allowing Kurt to think. Finally, he spoke. "I felt sorry for him. The whole time. I knew what it was like to want all the pain and suffering to go away, even though he was the one who brought a lot of that on me in the first place. If I had a gun in my mouth, and there was someone kneeling in front of me, I'd hope they'd give enough of a shit about me to try and stop me, even if they didn't like me very much."

He paused, and grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table next to his chair. You might not be able to count on much else in this world, but your shrink's office would always have plenty of tissues. That was something you could always take to the bank. He blew his nose and wiped his eyes.

Dr. Vetter spoke, well aware that she had a responsibility beyond the boy sitting in her office. "It sounds like you'd like to have some kind of confrontation with Dave."

Kurt barked out a laugh. "You might say that." he said. "I have more than a few things I'd like to say to that motherfucker, to be honest.

"What if your positions were reversed?" she asked. "What if you didn't want to see him, or talk to him, but he insisted? How would that make you feel?"

Kurt shrank back in his chair. As always, she was fascinated by how her patient could flip back and forth from viciously angry to completely vulnerable in the blink of an eye. It would have disturbed her greatly, had she not seen it a thousand times before in clients torn to shreds by the tragedy life sometimes doled out.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't want to confront him, Kurt." she said. "It's perfectly understandable. Natural, even. I just want you to keep in mind the potential consequences. For you and Dave." After so many years of conducting sessions, she felt an internal alarm signal that they were about 5 minutes from the end of session. "How about this? I want you to write out exactly what you would say to Dave, if you got that confrontation. You could wait until next session to tell me, or even sing it if you wanted. The point is to really think about what you'd say, if you actually got that chance."

She was a hopeful person, but not a stupid one. Despite all precautions, Kurt Hummel and Dave Karofsky were back to attending the same school, and as such were on what she believed was an inevitable collision course. The only thing she could do, as a mental health professional, as well as someone who had come to care greatly for Kurt, was to prepare him as much as possible for the storm ahead.

_**I hope this chapter was okay, as dialogue heavy as it turned out to be. I think I'm much better at describing things than I am at dialogue, but any scene that takes place in a therapist's office is going to rely heavily on conversation. I'd really like to have some more scenes with Dr. Vetter, since it's kind of a shortcut to Kurt's psyche, but if I suck at it, I'd rather you let me know now. ;-)**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**As always, much love to my readers, especially the ones who leave such lovely and thoughtful reviews. Just a couple of things I have rattling around in my head:**_

_**Regarding Kurt's excessive swearing, I agree it's a little OOC for him. But this Kurt is a little different than the one of the show, and in a much darker place. I can't imagine him not having a great deal of anger for a long time after what I've put him through, and to me he seems like the sort of person who'd express it verbally instead of physically. Also, I'm the sort of person who has the filthiest mouth ever when I get pissed off, even though no one but my closest friends (and you guys) would suspect it. So when Kurt starts ranting and raving, I hear lots of f-bombs and s-words, and they kinda leak out of my brain and onto the page. ;-)**_

_**I'm also so happy you guys like Dr. Vetter! I did want to paint her as a 3-dimensional character, because let's face it, therapists are people too. But I won't go too much into her feelings or backstory, because I fear the utter horror of her turning into a Mary Sue. She'll definitely be showing up in the future, because it's good way for me to show what's going on in Kurt's head, without some awkward "And now, Kurt Hummel will expound on his many feelings" kind of scene.**_

_**Okay, y'all came here to read about Kurt and Dave, not listen to some noob blather on about her creative process. On with the show…**_

Chapter 8

The first time Kurt Hummel saw Dave again, it was about as soul-shattering as he expected it to be. The glee club was performing at a pep rally, and was in the midst of wailing out a kickass version of "You Spin Me Round" when it happened. The number involved the New Directions leaping off the stage towards the end and dancing around the gym floor, spinning wildly. Mr. Scheuster was nothing if not predictably literal when it came to choreography. Kurt was trying to spot as he twirled gracefully across the floor as if on ice skates. While it might not have been brilliant choreography, it _was_ fun, and Kurt's joyful smile was genuine. He spun past Brittany, ready to hit the ending pose and belt out the last few lines of the song. He tightened his core muscles to prepare, and stopped his momentum right on cue, without a single sway. He looked at the first row of bleachers, then raised his head, following the movement with his arm. His gaze made it halfway up the bleachers when he saw them. Dave Karofsky's eyes.

Kurt froze, his voice dying in his throat. His mouth remained open though, so he imagined that it probably looked like he was still singing. He stared at those hazel eyes, which had been so clouded with tears and near-insanity the last time he'd looked into them. Dave looked back at him, eyes now clear and calm. Kurt took note of the rest of his face, which appeared relaxed, and his expression was entirely neutral.

He was startled out of his trance by a soft pressure on his shoulder. He turned to see Rachel standing next to him with a concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay, Kurt?" she said. He looked around to see that the rest of the group was going back towards the stage. He flushed, hoping he hadn't been standing there like an idiot for too long.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he said. "I just got a little dizzy. Had to take a minute to get my bearings." He offered Rachel a wan smile, and she returned it slightly, obviously not convinced. He realized that the assembly had ended, and most of the kids were getting up and leaving the bleachers. He looked quickly at the spot where Dave had been. He was gone.

The second time he saw him was about two weeks later, in the lunchroom. Kurt had missed his own lunch period to help Mercedes with her costume for that week's glee assignment (Elton John, which Kurt could hardly contain his excitement over), so he popped into the cafeteria to pick up a salad or something. He'd gotten about 5 steps into the room when he saw Dave standing at the cash register. He sat down immediately in an empty seat, trying not to call any attention to himself. He tried not to think about why he so desperately wanted to make sure Dave remained unaware of his presence, so he could observe him for a little bit.

Dave had lost a fair amount of weight; that was the first thing Kurt noticed. His profile was sharper, his face leaner. You could actually see his cheekbones now. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt with some sort of band logo on it, which fell straight down from his broad shoulders, no pudgy belly disturbing the line. His hair was different too. It was longer on top, slightly tousled, and the sideburns were a little longer too. Dave smiled at the cashier, and it made his face nearly unrecognizable. Kurt had never seen Dave smile without malice, and his eyes were completely absent of the disturbing glint that Kurt had been seeing in his nightmares over the past year. He looked more like someone who might be related to Dave than the boy himself.

He took his lunch tray and started moving towards a table, thankfully in the opposite direction of Kurt. Kurt was surprised to see that he wasn't sitting with anyone from the football or hockey team. Instead, he sat down with a group of students that Kurt didn't even really recognize. An assortment of fairly innocuous looking teenagers of both genders, the type of kids Kurt apparently didn't ever notice because they sort of faded into the background. A pretty girl with long brown hair and a black t-shirt that read "Self-Rescuing Princess" under a yellow crown stole a fry from Dave's tray. He laughed and tried to grab it back.

He wasn't sure if he was happy Dave appeared to be doing well, or not. What he _was_ sure of was that he was starting to feel like the creepy stalker for a change. He felt a rush of shame, knowing how he would feel if he found out Dave was spying on him with his friends. He stood to leave, and in another one of life's attempts to completely fuck him over, someone behind him dropped their lunch tray with a loud crash. Everyone in the cafeteria turned towards the noise, including, of course, Dave. He spotted Kurt immediately, and Kurt felt his feet nearly grow roots into the floor. He couldn't have moved if you had offered him free Gaga tickets. Dave gave Kurt a measured look, very similar to the one in the gym. Sort of detached and indifferent. If he was experiencing the same turmoil as Kurt, it didn't show at all. What drugs did his doctors have him on, anyway? Maybe he was totally doped up on Thorazine, Kurt thought. He sure didn't seem to be in a pharmaceutical haze when he was laughing with that girl, though. _Maybe_ _he just doesn't give a shit about your presence_. He felt a dull, embarrassed heat at the thought. He closed his eyes, trying to get a handle on his unruly emotions. With what he hoped Dave would understand was an apologetic look, Kurt left the cafeteria.

He didn't have to wait long to see Dave again. The third time Kurt saw him, it was because Dave came to him. The day after the humiliating cafeteria incident, Kurt found Dave standing next to his car after the final bell. Kurt stopped a full 10 feet from the larger boy, the urge to run nearly impossible to ignore. He didn't fear for his physical safety; it was pretty obvious that at this point that Dave had no plans to start beating on him, not unless he was the best actor in the universe. Kurt had told Dr. Vetter that he wanted this confrontation, but now that it was finally here, he was at a loss for words. He didn't even know what to think, let alone to say. Forcing himself to walk forward, he closed the distance between himself and Dave. He stood silently in front of him, waiting for Dave to break the silence.

"It seems like maybe you want to talk to me." Dave said coolly.

"Really? You're the one standing next to my car." said Kurt, trying for tart but failing miserably.

"And you were the one in the cafeteria yesterday. We have different lunch periods for a reason, you know."

His unflappable tone was beginning to piss Kurt off. "No, I don't _know_. Why don't you tell me what the reason is? Since it was your idea and all." he said snottily.

"Being around you isn't a great idea. I've really worked hard to get past what happened last year."

Kurt was outraged. "And what do you think I've been doing? Playing fucking tiddlywinks?" he hissed. He was darkly satisfied to see Dave flinch at his words, and continued. "I've got the loveliest case of PTSD thanks to you. I threw up every day for a week after that night, freaked out screaming if Finn closed the door too loudly, and had nightmares that would scare the living shit out of Quentin Tarentino. Shit, I _still _have them from time to time. Most kids my age get an iPod or laptop for Christmas; I got an unlimited supply of visits with my shrink." He narrowed his eyes. "Thanks a lot, asshole."

He noted that a red flush was creeping up Dave's neck. About time he got a reaction from Mr. "I-used-to-be-a-psycho-but-now-I've-got-my-shit-together." It was low of him, he knew, but fuck it. He had suffered so much, why shouldn't the person who started it all feel the same way?

Dave responded in a fairly calm voice, but Kurt could hear the heat underlying the words as clearly as if he were shouting. "Yeah, it was a real picnic for me too, Hummel. Alice Cooper might be able to look cool in a straightjacket, but he's about the only one who can. I ate hospital food for two months, and they wouldn't even let me have a damn spork for weeks because they thought I might shank myself. I bet it was all warm and fuzzy when you came out. I came out in group therapy, to a bunch of alcoholics and nutjobs who were complete strangers to me. My parents almost had to sell their house to pay for the medical bills. Do you know how much a 60 day stay at the psycho ward costs, even if you have insurance?" His blasé expression was gone, replaced with an indignant glare.

"Don't try to turn this around on me." Kurt said angrily. "This is nobody's fault but yours."

Dave's voice finally rose. "Don't you think I know that?" he asked. "I fucked my life up completely, and apparently, I dragged you down with me. I had thoughts and did things that I never imagined I'd be capable of, and I have to live with all of it for the rest of my life." His eyes became shiny with tears, and Kurt started to feel his temper recede a little. "I tried to avoid having to live with it, but you wouldn't let me. I go back and forth like you wouldn't believe - between being grateful, and wishing you'd never answered your phone that night."

Kurt was taken aback. All this time later, all that help, and Dave still sometimes wished he'd succeeded? He'd never considered the possibility.

Dave swiped at his eyes. "I don't know what you want from me." he told Kurt.

Kurt snorted. "I'm not sure myself. Maybe an apology?"

"Fine, I'm sorry. For all the things I said I was sorry for a year ago. And I'm sorry I messed up your life so bad, Kurt." Dave's eyes went soft and regretful, and for a breathless minute, Kurt thought Dave might reach out to him physically. But his large hands remained at his sides. "I wish I could take it back, but I can't. All I can try to do is move on, and crawl out of the Hell I found myself in."

Kurt felt his eyes sting. The irony was cataclysmic in its proportions, but for the first time he felt like he was talking to someone who actually understood what he struggled nearly every day. He nodded at Dave, and the other boy took it as a signal that they were finally through with their…whatever the fuck it was. Dave stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away.

Kurt stared at the spot where Dave had been for at least 5 minutes. Finally, he fished out his keys and got into his car. Resting his head on the steering wheel, he wondered where to go from here.

_**Getting reviews that people are waiting with bated breath for your next chapter is both exhilarating and completely terrifying at the same time. I know Dave and Kurt's "reunion" was something many of you were looking forward too, and I hope I didn't let any of you down too badly.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I'm so, so incredibly relieved and happy so many of you felt I did a good job with Kurt & Dave's reunion/confrontation/whatever. It really inspired me to go forward with what I've got planned, and in fact made me more excited to continue on than ever. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me!**_

Chapter 9

Kurt was navigating his way down the hall to his Chemistry class when he heard the whispers and murmurings, and saw that there was some sort of bottleneck towards the end of the hall.

"Omigod, can you believe he would…"

"Jeeze, after everything the guy's been through…"

"What a dick!"

'Someone needs to get a teacher. Coach Sylvester's office is pretty close…"

Kurt heard the bang of someone being tossed up against a locker. It wasn't a sound he was likely to ever forget. Feeling a weird clenching in the pit of his stomach, he shouldered and elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Azimio had Dave pinned up against the lockers, way up so that Dave had to go up onto his toes to keep from falling over. He didn't look scared though. Dave's eyes were narrowed, but his face showed no tension. He held his arms out to the side, making no attempt to fight back.

Kurt stopped at the innermost ring of students, and heard Dave say slowly and clearly, "Take your hands off me. Right now."

"Why, faggot?" sneered Azimio. "Am I scaring the little pussy?"

"Not really." said Dave, in a voice that sounded almost bored. Kurt wasn't fooled. "You're fucking up my shirt, though, and I don't appreciate it. Why don't you back off before you get in some serious trouble?"

Azimio laughed and looked around. "Who's going to make trouble for me?" Kurt could almost feel the other kids around him shrink back, disgusted but still not wanting to get involved. He was shocked to find his feet moving closer to the grappling boys. What the _hell_ was he doing?

Azimio caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, craning his head back at Kurt while still keeping a tight grip on Dave. "Oooh, Karofsky. I think maybe your homo boyfriend's come to save his princess." He turned his head back to Dave, and smirked. "Again."

Kurt had no words. He'd had some pretty shitty things said to him, most of them in fact from the guy currently being crushed into the wall of lockers by his former best friend. But to throw Dave's failed suicide attempt in his face like that? Kurt felt his blood boil, and opened up his mouth to say something. Anything. He didn't get a chance, though, because Dave Karofsky had apparently reached his breaking point.

His face contracted into a grimace that Kurt found frighteningly familiar, and the hands that had hung passively at his sides sprang into action. He grabbed Azimio by the shirt and swung him around, reversing their positions and crashing his tormentor into the lockers. Dave got right up into his face with a glare that Kurt could only describe as murderous. He felt a thud in his chest as he watched Dave's fist swing towards Azimio's face, and cringed. But instead of the sound of a fist meeting flesh, there was only silence. Kurt dared a glance, only to find Dave's hand frozen mere centimeters from Azimio's cheek. Dave was breathing heavily, and as Kurt watched, a bead of sweat ran down from his forehead. The look in his eyes was incomprehensible to Kurt. Azimio's eyes weren't nearly as perplexing; they radiated utter fear, and knowledge that maybe this time, he'd gone too far.

Suddenly, Dave released the other boy's shirt was if it had become blazing hot. In an instant, his expression changed from deadly fury to nothing at all. He stared at Azimio as if he didn't quite understand how they'd wound up in their respective positions. He backed off, hands in the air, then turned and fled down the hallway. Kurt was stunned for a beat, and then took off after Dave as fast as his legs would carry him.

He followed him down two flights of stairs, into the locker room, and out the doors that led to the football field. Football season was over, and the field was mercilessly empty. Dave ran to just short of the 50 yard line, then collapsed to his knees. He sat on the ground and wrapped his hands around his knees tightly, rocking back and forth. As Kurt approached him carefully, he saw the tears running down Dave's face and heard his helpless cries. "No, no no no no no! Not again, no!"

There were several things Kurt Hummel could identify without hesitation. Any note played on a piano. A random dress from the last 5 Chanel collections. Every Broadway song that had ever been written, down to the specific key. And from personal experience, he could recognize a panic attack from a mile away. He crept closer to Dave, empathy like he hadn't felt in over a year flooding his entire being. He knelt gently next to Dave, not making any attempt to touch him. He schooled every note of nervousness out of his voice, and spoke calmly. "Dave? Can you hear me?" he asked

There was no response, just more rocking, and Dave's words dissolved into whimpers. He tried again, trying to channel Dr. Vetter with everything he had in him. "Dave, where are you? What number are you at?"

At those words, Dave wrenched his head towards Kurt with a frantic expression. It took him a moment, but he responded. "10. Definitely a 10."

"Okay, let's just sit here a minute until it comes down a bit." Kurt sat on the ground next to Dave. After a minute or so, he thought he felt Dave's gasps come a touch more slowly, and the rocking cease. "How about now?"

"An…8."

"Good." said Kurt. The sat in silence for a bit more, and he noticed that Dave wasn't actively crying anymore. "And now?"

"I think…a 5." Dave responded.

Encouraged, Kurt held out his hand to Dave, who stared at it dumbly for a moment. Just when Kurt was feeling like offering a physical connection might have been a bad move, Dave grabbed his hand and squeezed it. They sat there holding hands for another few minutes, not looking at each other.

"How about now?" Kurt asked.

Dave blew out a huge breath. "1. Actually, I think I'm just about down to 0."

Kurt turned to face Dave. They were still holding hands. "Good. That's really good. You did a great job." he said. He smiled reassuringly, remembering how relieved he would feel after conquering an overwhelming anxiety attack. He smiled genuinely, and felt a warm glow when it was reflected back at him. He had just a moment to acknowledge that he felt a bizarre urge to hug Dave, when he heard a voice.

"Kurt, are you okay?" he heard Finn ask.

He and Dave looked up at one very confused Finn Hudson, who was completely thrown by the sight of his brother and his brother's former bully holding hands on the football field. Dave pulled his hands away, and Kurt tried hard to ignore the sense of loss. He wiped his palms on his jeans and rose to his feet. "Yeah, we're fine. I mean, I'm fine."

Finn eyed them uneasily. "Right. I heard that Figgins is looking for Karofsky. You might want to get to his office."

Dave rose to his own feet and tugged down his shirt. 'Yeah, I guess I'd better." he said. He walked over to Kurt, noting from the corner of his eye how Finn tensed up. He looked at Kurt, then put a gentle hand on the smaller boy's shoulder. "Thanks, Kurt." he said simply, and left the field.

Kurt watched him leave. "No problem." he said. Then he and his brother followed Dave off the field, a good distance behind.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Alright, peeps. This is the point in the story where my muse and I had a showdown. I wanted to have the story go in one direction, and she was pushing me in another. I thought I was winning; but then the sneaky bitch sent some images to my brain that were so vivid, I had no choice but to write them. I hope that this part doesn't turn anyone off, but I do understand if it's not your cup of tea anymore. Please do try to make it to the end of the chapter, though, if you can. **_

_***deep breath***_

Chapter 10

Kurt was standing in the door of Dave's bedroom, unable to believe that there was a gun pointed at him. Crap, what had he gotten himself into?

"Kurt? Is that you?" Dave said, pitifully.

"Uh huh. You called me, right?" he said, moving a little closer despite the gun trained on him. He didn't know the first thing about guns, but this one was big, black, and looked deadly as shit. Being Kurt, he nearly rolled his eyes at the thought of what the jocks would think of the "cowardly little faggot" moving towards what he could only assume was a loaded firearm. "You scared me." he told Dave. "And you're still scaring me, to be perfectly honest. How about you put that thing down, and we can talk about this."

Dave blinked and pulled the gun back. At first, it looked like he was going to keep a hold of it, but he finally put it on the ground. Kurt hesitated to move any closer, because Dave still had his hand on the damn thing. Suddenly, he slid the gun across the room forcefully, and Kurt jumped slightly at the noise it made when it hit the opposite wall. Dave put his face in his hands and began sobbing sorrowfully, and Kurt couldn't help the sympathy that filled him. Yes, Dave had been a monster, and done some terrible things to Kurt. But nothing was worth him killing himself over. Nothing.

He made his way over to Dave, amazed to realize he felt no fear towards the other boy for the first time ever. How could you be scared of someone so broken, so pitiful? He kneeled in front of Dave. "Dave, it's okay. You're all right now. We're going to get you some help." He tried for a smile. "It sure seems like you need it."

Dave took his hands away from his face, and looked at Kurt with a mixture of misery and confusion. "Why?" he asked. "Why would you stop me, after everything I've done to you?"

"Because you don't deserve this. No one does, to feel so hopeless and lost that you'd take your own life. The last thing this world needs is another gay kid killing himself because he can't see any other way out."

"I can't do this." said Dave.

Kurt found himself taking Dave's larger hands in his own. They didn't seem so furious right now, he thought. They looked weak and limp, almost like they belonged to someone else. "Yes you can." responded Kurt. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but you can get through this. There are people who can help you." Without realizing the words were going to come out of his mouth, he said, "I'll help you, Dave."

Dave's appeared awed by Kurt's words. Kurt wasn't surprised; he was pretty shocked he'd uttered them too. His eyes were wide, and Kurt found himself weirdly mesmerized by how…pretty they were, for lack of a better term. They were a medium hazel color with a darker ring on the outside of the iris, and fringed with short dark lashes that were currently spiky with tears. His eyebrows were nicely shaped too, as neat as Kurt's own, though he didn't picture Dave as the type of guy who even owned a pair of tweezers. The spell was broken when he felt Dave lifting their connected hands. Kurt watched, unbelieving, as Dave brought Kurt's fingers to his mouth and kissed them gently. He then laid his cheek on their joined hands. "Thank you, Kurt." he said. Thank you so much."

Kurt felt his hands tingle, and it spread up his arms. His mouth hung slightly open, and he felt like he was engulfed in a cottony fog. Dave lifted his head and let go of one of Kurt's hands. He reached towards Kurt, fingers shaking, and threaded them through Kurt's soft hair. Kurt was amazed at how pleasurable the sensation was, and rubbed slightly into the stroking, like a cat being scratched on the chin. The hand trailed down to Kurt's soft cheek and cupped it. Dave licked his lips, his gaze zeroed in on Kurt's plump lips. Slowly, he brought his head closer, and Kurt found himself dazedly following suit.

Their lips met, at first just resting together, savoring the moment. But then they began to move, the tilt of their heads changing slightly as they explored different angles, and levels of pressure. Dave drew the very tip of his tongue almost hesitantly along Kurt's lower lip, causing the smaller boy to moan softly. Dave took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Kurt's mouth, brushing tentatively against Kurt's. Helplessly, Kurt responded, twining his tongue with Dave's in his first (and he assumed Dave's) French kiss. It was sublime, and sensual beyond anything he could have imagined.

Dave's mouth left his, and began to trail soft, sweet kisses over Kurt's cheek and over to the shell of his ear. His tongue traced the outside, down to the lobe, which was delicately sucked into Dave's mouth for a brief moment. Kurt let out a quiet cry at the feel, and Dave continued pressing butterfly-light kisses down the side of his face and into his neck. Kurt's hands found Dave's hair and his fingers wove through the short strands. He could hear Dave making soft mewling sounds, and they ratcheted his desire even higher. Oh God, he never imagined it could feel so good, and opened his mouth to tell Dave so…

Kurt awoke with a gasp, hands twisted into the bed sheets. Gasping harshly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, still trying to shake off the lingering sensations from the dream. He flipped on the light and rested back against the headboard, closing his eyes. His nightmares about that night had never taken _that _turn before, but it was no less disturbing. In fact, you couldn't really call it a nightmare at all, it was really just a dream. A really fucking twisted dream. He opened his eyes, about 50 different emotions rolling through him. He opened his eyes and looked down the bed, freezing suddenly. Holy shit, he had a fucking erection, and a pretty solid one based on how visible it was through his pajamas and a couple layers of bedding.

Kurt leaped out of bed and ran down the hall to the bathroom. He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, feeling his stomach lurch and wanting desperately to vomit all of the turmoil out of his body. Nothing would come up though, so after a few dry heaves he gave up. He rose on shaky legs and stumbled over to the sink, splashing cold water on his face. He thought about taking a shower, but realized there probably wasn't enough water on the planet to make him feel clean. He left the bathroom and walked woodenly back to his room, closing the door.

Kurt walked over to his desk and picked up his cell phone, flipping it over and over nervously in his hands. About 4 months after he started seeing Dr. Vetter, she gave him her cell phone number. She told him she only offered it to a minority of patients, the ones who she was confident wouldn't call her every night with non-emergencies. She told Kurt that it was always on, except when she was in session, and that he could call if he needed her help urgently. Kurt had never called the number before. But if this wasn't a fucking emergency, he didn't know what was. Bringing up his contacts list, he pressed his thumb on _Dr Vetter Cell_.

After 3 rings, he heard her voice. "Kurt, is that you?" she said, sounding a little sleepy. He looked at the clock for the first time. Shit, it was nearly 3:30 in the morning. He closed his eyes.

"Yeah, it's me." he said quietly. He didn't want to wake up his parents or Finn. "I'm sorry to call so late. Or early. Whatever." He gave a short, despondent laugh.

When Dr. Vetter responded, her voice was much clearer. "I gave you this number in case you needed it, and I can't imagine you'd use it unless you _really_ needed it." He heard rustling noises on her end, and the murmur of another voice. "Just give me a minute. Don't hang up; I just need to get my robe on and walk down the hall into my study." While waiting, Kurt wondered if Dr. Vetter was married. She didn't wear a ring, but not everyone did.

"Okay," came the brisk voice out of the phone. "I'm all set. Thanks for waiting." Her tone turned softer. "What is it, Kurt? What happened?"

"I had another dream. About that night."

"You've had a lot of dreams about it. What made this one powerful enough that you needed me tonight?"

"It started out the same. I walk in, Dave pulls the gun on me, and I nearly shit my pants. I ask him to put it down, so we can talk. And he does. Throws it across the room, in fact."

"And then?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "I go over to him, kneel down. That's when it got weird."

"What was weird about it?"

"I wasn't afraid of him, not at all. I've never had a dream about it where I wasn't petrified the entire time. But he was different in this one. Sad, but not scary or creepy at all. He asked me why I saved him, and I said something about how no one deserved to feel suicidal, no matter what they'd done."

"Did he respond?"

Kurt was silent. As usual, Dr. Vetter let it go on as long as Kurt needed it to. He sighed, hating how hard this was to say. "He said thank you, but not at first. First he…he kissed my hands."

"How did that make you feel, in your dream?"

"It felt…good. Nice." He shuddered. "But it didn't stop there. He started touching my face, and then he kissed me. A lot." Damn it, here came the tears. "I kissed him back. We were making out like crazy, and if felt amazing."

"Dave was gentle, in the dream?" she said.

Kurt's face burned, glad they were having this conversation on the phone instead of in person. He knew Dr. Vetter had probably heard far more vulgar things in her practice, but it was still embarrassing to talk about the sexual details of the dream. Still, he had to do it. He knew getting it all out was the only way to get some relief from his torment, and since he'd woken his therapist up in the middle of the night, he needed to go through with it. "Yeah, he was gentle. It was all so soft, and perfect. And it felt so good. I was really…getting turned on."

"That seems like a perfectly natural reaction, when someone's doing something pleasurable to you."

"I woke up before we got too far. But I had a..." he stopped, and tried again. "I was hard, when I woke up." The shame was overwhelming.

"It's not unusual for one's body to react physically to a dream like that. In fact, it would be more unusual if you didn't find yourself like that upon waking."

Kurt snapped, going from weepy and embarrassed to furious in less than a second. He hissed into the phone, still mindful of his sleeping family. "Not unusual? To get a fucking boner because I dreamed about my tongue down the throat of a person who said they wanted to rape me?" He scoffed. "I know you've probably seen some really strange shit in your day, but it sounds pretty fucking unusual to me."

"Did Dave mention his thoughts about raping you, in the dream?" she asked, cool as a cucumber.

"No. What difference does that make?" Kurt asked in a pissy tone.

"Dreams aren't real life, Kurt. They're an alternate reality unto themselves. Haven't you ever had a dream before where people from different parts of your life, who have never met, know each other? Or it's taking place somewhere that it couldn't possibly, like something today taking place at a house you haven't lived in for years."

Kurt felt himself calm slightly. "Yeah, sure. Everyone does. I once dreamed my mom was driving me to Sectionals, and it didn't even occur to me that she shouldn't have been there."

"Kurt, if Dave didn't mention rape in the dream, than for the purposes of the dream, he never said it, or even wanted to do it."

Kurt started to argue, but came up blank. He pondered Dr. Vetter's words for a minute. It made sense, and it also made him feel a lot less disgusting. He couldn't let himself off the hook entirely, though. "But I know it in reality. How could I dream about something like that, after everything he's done to me?"

"Kurt, people have sexual dreams about partners who would be inappropriate in real life all the time. Sometimes our subconsciouses throw us a curve ball, and we'll dream about having sex with people we're not attracted to, or even people we're related to. It's uncomfortable and embarrassing when it happens, but it's really not that unusual. People just don't talk about it very much, for obvious reasons." She paused a moment, letting her words sink in. It was unusual for her to do so much of the talking with a patient, but she knew that what Kurt needed more than anything right now was reassurance that he wasn't sick or perverted. And since he certainly wasn't either, she went for more of an informational approach. "You've been talking and thinking about Dave for a long time. You have strong emotions associated with him, and a history of dreaming about him frequently. Lately, your feelings towards him have changed substantially. You don't fear him anymore, and you empathize with him greatly because you've traveled near parallel paths. On top of all of that, Kurt, you're still in adolescence, and your hormones are all over the place. To be perfectly frank, I've been expecting you to have a dream like this for a while now. Clinically, it was hardly unforeseeable."

Kurt was silent for a moment. Then in a small voice, he said, "Really?"

"Yes. You've been through a lot Kurt, more than most people 3 times your age have been. Whatever dreams you have, or thoughts you have, they're not wrong or shameful. You need to feel how you need to feel, and do whatever you need to do to get through the day. As long as you're not hurting yourself, or anyone else, it's all good."

Kurt realized that he was no longer shaking, or angry or crying. In fact, he felt very calm - peaceful, even. "Thank you so much, Dr. Vetter. I feel a lot better now." The words were completely inadequate, but he hoped she could sense even a little bit of his gratefulness.

"I'm glad, Kurt. Do you think maybe you could get some sleep now?" she asked.

"Yeah, definitely." He smiled a little, something he wouldn't have believed possible at the beginning of their conversation. "I'm glad you gave me your cell number. I hope I won't need to use it again, though."

"Me too, Kurt. Try to get some rest, and I'll see you at session on Tuesday. And if you need me before then, well, you know how to get a hold of me. Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, Dr. Vetter." He replied, and disconnected.

Exhausted from the interrupted sleep and the stress of the past hour, Kurt fell into a deep, dreamless sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

_**I thought I was nervous about posting the last chapter, but I'm really freaking over this one. I know having Kurt and Dave in any type of a sexual situation after what he confessed to Kurt might squick some people out, even if it is just in a dream. I hope that through Kurt's conversation with Dr. Vetter, I've been able to communicate why I needed to include it. It just felt honest and real to me, and I hope nobody hates me for it.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Okay, I know I keep saying this, but I can't thank everyone who's reviewed and PM'd me about this story enough. If you had told me when I started it that I'd have over 150 reviews, most of them overwhelmingly positive and constructive, I'd have never believed you. Thanks for your trust that I won't completely mess this up - I'll try to deserve it. Extra-special love goes out to boldlikeblack and Dreaming-of-a-Nightmare, for providing me with inspiration in the form of some Max Adler photos I'd never seen before. Oh my.**_

_**p.s. If anyone wants to read a brilliant, smutty piece that's basically the polar opposite of my slow journey of healing for Kurt and Dave, check out "Pandora's Box" by ColouredRose. It's a super dark, violent dub-con/non-con angst fest, but I think it's mind-blowingly written. Not that I think my writing is on par with hers, but for me, the mood and story is like the Yin to this one's Yang.**_

Chapter 11

Kurt walked into Ms. Pilsbury's office, knocking once on the doorway as he entered. "You wanted to see me?" he asked.

The guidance counselor smiled. "Yes, I did." she said. "Could you sit down for a minute?" Kurt complied. Ms. Pilsbury's expression didn't seem overly worried or concerned to Kurt, so he set aside any feeling of impending doom. It was something he was working on, to not expect painful news every time he was asked to come to an authority figure's office. This seemed like an excellent time to practice, so he returned her smile pleasantly.

"As you know, Kurt, it's the beginning of December, and time to select your classes for next semester." she said. Kurt nodded, a little confused. Did she think he needed help picking classes? It certainly fell under her job duties, but Kurt had always known exactly what he wanted to take without assistance. Ms. Pilsbury folded her hands on her desk. "Last semester, the administration had a lot of influence over your and Dave Karofsky's schedules, to keep you apart. The purpose of our meeting, Kurt, is to find out if that's still a priority for you." Kurt said nothing, but appeared pensive rather than upset, so she continued. "We understand that the two of you have seen each other, and spoken since Dave came back, and that it hasn't been…distressing, for either of you. Is that true?"

Kurt considered. The cafeteria incident had pretty much defined epic fail. The conversation by Kurt's car had been pretty damn distressing at the time. And coaching Dave through a panic attack hadn't exactly been a day at the beach, either. But he understood what she was getting at. Even though the encounters hadn't been all hugs and puppies, they hadn't left Kurt feeling scared, or unsafe. Based on that, he answered. "Yes, it's true." He paused a moment, then said in a softer voice, "For me, at least. I can't really speak for Dave."

He wasn't sure what expression was on his face, but must have communicated some kind of trepidation, because Ms. Pilsbury's eyes got all soft and her head tilted slightly. "It's really nice that you're concerned for his feelings, Kurt. It tells me a lot about how far the two of you have come over the last year." she said. _If she only knew_, thought Kurt. "Anyway," she said a bit more brightly, "I've had this same meeting with Dave, and he's fine with the two of you taking whatever classes you each want with no intervention."

Kurt wondered why her words came as such a relief to him. Sure, it was nice to know he could pick whatever classes he wanted freely, but it was more than that. He admitted to himself that he was pleased that Dave no longer wanted to avoid the sight of him like the plague. Deciding to just go with that instead of dissecting his feelings to death (something else he was working on), he said, "Well, that sounds fine. It seems like he and I want the same thing." Ms. Pilsbury seemed delighted with his response, so he thanked her and left. If he hurried, he could still make the last half of French III.

Hours later, he sat in front of the laptop in his bedroom. He'd checked his email, TLo's Project Rungay blog (he was addicted to their Mad Men recaps), and finally made his way to Facebook. After catching up on his Newsfeed, he gave a lingering stare at the Search field for a moment. Not for the first time, he typed "Dave Karofsky" in and hit the magnifying glass icon. A small square picture of Dave wearing a coffee colored t-shirt appeared, but Kurt's eyes were drawn more towards the _Add as Friend_ button. He looked back and forth between the button and Dave's profile picture, also not for the first time. Putting his finger on the touchpad, he drew the mouse pointer over to the button. He noticed his breath came a bit more rapidly, and closing his eyes, clicked the button. He gazed at the message that appeared briefly. _A friend request has been sent to Dave Karofsky for approval_.

Kurt changed into his pajamas, then went down the hall to brush his teeth and moisturize. He came back to his room and was just about to close his laptop for the night, when he heard the tone that indicated an incoming email. Clicking on his Gmail account, he looked at the most recent message in his inbox. The subject was _Dave Karofsky has added you as a friend on Facebook_. All thoughts of going to bed left behind, Kurt dropped heavily into the chair. Opening up the message, he clicked on the link to go to Dave's profile. Once there, he was finally able to access the Send Message link. Clicking on it, he quickly typed out _Thank you for accepting the friend request. Can we maybe get together to talk sometime?_ He hesitated before adding the last line, then decided to just go for it. _I think maybe it's time. _He sat there expectantly, but after 15 minutes there was still no reply. He closed his laptop and went to bed, though it was at least an hour before he was able to fall asleep.

When he woke the next morning, he turned on his computer before going downstairs. He navigated to Facebook and saw he had an unopened message waiting. After taking a moment to collect himself, he clicked on the inbox, finding a reply from Dave. _I think so too. How about The Meeting Place on Market at 4pm?_ Kurt hit reply and typed a simple 3 word response. _See you there_.

School that day seemed to last forever for Kurt. Even glee rehearsal was borderline painful, and he found he didn't even have it in him to argue with Rachel over who would get to solo on "Bye Bye Blackbird". As soon as the final bell rang, he walked briskly to his car to drive downtown. He was walking briskly, mind you, not running. Kurt running to meet Dave Karofsky was just not happening. Nuh-uh, no way.

He lucked into a parking spot right in front of the coffee house. He sat behind the wheel for a minute, then shrugged and got out of the car. He tried to look ahead through the window as he walked in, and when he finally was standing in the coffee house, his scan of the room confirmed that he was the first to arrive. He checked his phone and saw that it was only 3:53pm, so he walked over to the counter and ordered a no-whip peppermint mocha. He spied a table for two at the back and grabbed it. He'd only been sitting there for a couple of minutes, looking at his coffee but not drinking it, when he heard the bell over the front door ding. He looked up, and sure enough, Dave had walked in the door. Dave looked around, squinting softly, but his head stopped when he saw Kurt. Their eyes met, and Dave walked over to him without dropping his gaze once. An awkward silence commenced, neither boy knowing who should be the first to break it. Finally, Dave slung his book bag onto the chair opposite Kurt, and hung his jacket on its back. "I'm going to get something to drink." He said. "Be right back."

Kurt tried not to watch Dave as he ordered his coffee and waited for the barista to prepare it. He remembered the shameful feeling of clandestinely watching Dave in the lunchroom, so he kept his gaze trained on the cup in front of him. After a few minutes, he heard the chair across from him pull out and Dave's book bag hit the floor. For some reason, it took him a moment or two before he could lift his head and look at Dave. When he did, he saw that the larger boy was leaning back slightly in his chair, body language relaxed and calm. He was wearing a soft looking army green t-shirt with a slight v-neck. A lot of things might have changed about Dave, he thought, but wearing short sleeves throughout the cold Ohio winters appeared to be something that would remain the same. He took a swig from his cup then set it down, looking seriously but not apprehensively at Kurt. "So." He said. "You wanted to talk?"

Kurt bit his lip, looking down again. God, why was he so nervous about a simple conversation? Dave seemed fairly placid about the whole thing; it seemed like the least he could do was try not to be a total drama queen for once. He looked up with what he hoped was a somewhat confident smile. "Yeah, I did. Thanks." He said. "For meeting me, I mean." Dave shrugged as if to indicate it was no big deal, but he still left the talking ball in Kurt's court. Oh well, thought Kurt, here goes nothing. "Ms. Pilsbury told me that you didn't think it was necessary to avoid seeing me at school anymore. I wanted to thank you for that. I mean, I'm not sure _why_ I want to thank you for it, but I do."

"You're welcome." Dave said mildly, then fell silent.

_Okay, no help there_. He was uncharacteristically timid about discussing his feelings with Dave. Why should he give a shit how Kurt felt about anything? On the other hand, there was way too much baggage between the two of them for Dave to have assumed Kurt wanted to just shoot the breeze with him. Not that Kurt would have the first clue about how make small talk with someone he had absolutely nothing in common with. _Except that you're both gay. There is that._ "I know I seemed pissed at you before about the arrangements. But I understand why you wanted things that way. I mean, I wanted it that way too. I guess I just thought I'd be the one deciding. I shouldn't have flipped out on you like that, and I'm sorry. My emotions have been a little…raw, for a while now. But I'm working on getting them under control."

Dave looked back at him, and incredibly, the tiniest smile appeared on his face. "I know how that is." He said.

Kurt smiled back a little too, encouraged by the slight change in Dave's demeanor. "I bet you do." He stopped smiling but kept talking. "I've cast myself as the victim in this little tragedy from the beginning. And in a lot of ways, I _am_ the victim. But you suffered too, just as much as me. Maybe more."

"I don't think it's fair to compare suffering like that." Dave replied. "It's different for each person, but I don't know that you can say that either one of us had it worse. It's not a competition." He paused. "At least, not one that I want to be part of."

_Wow, we are really talking about this. Holy shit._ Kurt cleared his throat slightly. "I think we can agree on that." It seemed to be going really well - much better than Kurt had anticipated - so he soldiered on. _In for a penny, in for a pound_. "I guess what I really wanted to talk to you about is…where we go from here."

Dave looked a little confused. "What do you mean?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "Well, obviously there's no problem with us seeing each other in the halls, or even having classes together. I guess we could just go on with our lives that way. Ships passing in the night, as the saying goes."

"Or?" said Dave.

Kurt figured it was time to lay his cards on the table, even though it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. And considering everything he'd been through in the past 13 months, that was saying a whole hell of a lot. "I don't know how it is for you, Dave, with your family and friends. Mine are great, don't get me wrong. But I feel like there's parts of me I'll never be able to share with them, because they can't really understand what I've been through. They know what happened, and it's not like they haven't had their own crises to work through. But what happened that night, and all the months that followed? No one but me can ever really know how devastating it was. How it changed me forever, and how it isn't something I'll ever be able to leave behind me completely." He stopped and swallowed, willing the tears away. He didn't need to make this more difficult by crying in Lima's one and only coffee house on a Thursday afternoon.

Dave, to his credit, had kept eye contact with Kurt the whole time. His facial expression radiated compassion like Kurt had never dared hope to see during this conversation. He took it as a sign to continue on. "But I think _you_ might know, Dave. I think you're the only other person in the universe who might. And this might be the craziest fucking idea you've ever heard, but sometimes I think it might be a real relief to talk to that person. About what happened. About _how_ it happened, how things could spiral out of control that insanely. About what happened after, and how I can possibly be sitting here spilling my guts to you, only a year after one or both of us could have easily died in that room."

Kurt stopped talking. He had done it, had gotten everything he wanted to say off his chest. And as difficult as it had been, it was nothing compared to the overwhelming relief of having finally had the courage to say those words to Dave. Even if the other boy got up and left, and never spoke to him again, Kurt knew he'd done the right thing. He finally had that closure he'd ranted and raved about needing so desperately in Dr. Vetter's office so long ago. It felt amazing.

He refocused on Dave, who had still not said a word. At some point he'd lost the battle to maintain eye contact with Kurt and was now looking down at the table. Kurt stayed silent, letting Dave have all the time he needed. After what he'd just dumped at his feet, it was the least he could do. Dave finally looked up, and Kurt felt a pang when he saw the unshed tears in Dave's eyes. They stared at each other, nearly twin hazel eyes locked on each other like nothing else existed around them. But then Kurt caught movement in the periphery of his vision, and looked down to see what it was.

Dave was sliding his hand across the table, towards Kurt. Heart beginning to thump, Kurt extended his small hand towards Dave's larger one. They met in the middle, and after the briefest of hesitations on both boy's parts, their fingers curled around each other. Kurt looked back up at Dave, not even trying to hide his astonishment. He held his breath in anticipation, as Dave opened his mouth to speak.

"I don't think it's a crazy idea." he said. "Not at all."

_**I think this may have been the most satisfying chapter to write so far. I usually feel conflicted and a little off-kilter when I finish a chapter, but right now, I just feel good. I hope you guys enjoy it as well, and let me know if there's interest in me posting more of Dave and Kurt's journey. I could just leave it there; I mean, it's not a *bad* ending. But I feel I definitely have more to write in this universe, at least for now. But just because I write it doesn't mean I have to post it, so you all can let me know if you'd rather I ended things here for you.**_

_**p.s. I was originally going to set Kurt and Dave's meeting in Starbucks, but a Google search led me to the interesting tidbit that there's only one Starbucks in Lima - in the lobby of St. Rita's, the very hospital where Dave had his stint in the mental ward. Needless to say, I abandoned the idea. Good Lord, the scene was hard enough to write as it was, without having to work *that* in there. The Meeting Place on Market is, from what I can tell, the only real coffee house in Lima.**_

_**p.p.s. I hope no one was bored with the drawn out Facebook-Add-a-Friend scene, but I was struck as I wrote it how the technical details of the process can be a real metaphor for reaching out to someone in real life.**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note**_

_**I've decided to mark this story as complete, even though I have more tales to tell in this universe. They will be posted in a sequel as a separate story, but pick up from where we left off. A few people suggested it, and the only reason I could come up with *not* to do it was that I'd have to come up with another title, which is one of my least favorite parts of writing. That's not a very good reason, and I really do feel like I should just let this part of the story end here, for those who would like the Kurtofsky to end with friendship. I'm not entirely sure what will happen in the sequel, but it will move beyond mere friendship. **_

_**So add me as an Author Alert if you want to move forward with me, or just load up Glee at for K. Hummel and D. Karofsky. See you there. ;-)**_


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